


you're a sky full of stars

by oceanvirus



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Missing Scene, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, idk how else to tag this it's just.....fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:58:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanvirus/pseuds/oceanvirus
Summary: Jake's always known of Amy's love for astronomy, but it's a whole other experience to see her in such a state of complete awe.  The look in her eyes as she studies the skies carefully is nothing short of wonder, and it causes a comforting sense of warmth and something else – something unidentifiable, yet still pleasant – to settle in his stomach.(Later on, when she turns that same gaze towards him, that something will solidify into uninhibited affection.)Jake discovers Amy's secret stargazing spot, but he can't seem to focus on constellations as much as he can focus on the one excitedly pointing them out.





	you're a sky full of stars

**Author's Note:**

> hello darkness my old friend.......i've come to give you another unnecessary dose of pre-relationship fluff again.........i've been in writer's block hell (tm) for like 3 weeks so i forced myself to sit down and finish this thing that's been in my drafts since before the finale lmao
> 
> this isn't proofread at all and i posted it with a pounding headache at 2 am so please forgive any errors you may find, especially considering this is my first time trying to write anything in present tense
> 
> also this is set sometime between the boyle-linetti wedding and det. dave majors. it was originally pre-series but i just cannot be stopped with the late s2 fluff 
> 
> enjoy!

It’s a universally agreed-upon fact within the nine-nine that stakeouts are not everyone’s favourite thing. It takes a certain type of person to sit in a car or on a roof for an unspecified amount of time with another human being, and more often than not, it requires both parties to be in favour. 

No one was really too surprised when Jake and Amy ended up being the precinct’s designated stakeout team. Although their partnership had a rocky start, the dynamic they'd developed had made it apparent to everyone that they would be able to sit for hours on end without getting bored or irritated with each other. Jake loves stakeouts on any given day, but something about stakeouts with Amy is different. There’s always an inexplicable excitement that takes hold of him whenever Amy volunteers them, and judging by the look in her eye when she practically bounces over to his desk to inform him of their assignment, he knows she has the same feeling. 

The two have been at it for close to four hours now, tossing gummy bears at each other and making conversation in between bouts of comfortable silence, but their promised relief team is already much later than anticipated and Jake’s anxious to get back to his couch. No matter how much he enjoys Amy stakeouts, he enjoys his down time more. 

“God, could the relief team be any slower?” He groans, leaning back in his seat. “I'm missing the Nets game. Every passing second is a potential missed basket.”

Instead of the usual hum of agreement or indictment of how he complains too much, Jake is met with silence. Turning to find out why, he grins; Amy’s entire head is sticking out of the car window, eyes trained on the night sky. 

“Amy?” He asks, poking her shoulder repeatedly. “Earth to Amy Santiago.” 

Without losing focus, Amy bats his hand away. “Shh. I'm trying to find Jupiter.”

Rolling his eyes, Jake flicks a gummy bear at her head, grinning when she catches it and hurls it back at him without hesitation. “Don't you need, like, a telescope for that?”

“Nope, not right now. See?” She points to a spot over the horizon, where one star seems to shine brighter than all the others. 

“Wait, that's actually Jupiter? I thought the sun was the only planet you could see.” He says, following where her finger is aimed and squinting. 

Amy turns back to face him, amused. “The sun is a star, not a planet.”

Mock surprise takes over his face, his eyes widening. “A star? My entire life is a lie.”

“Yup. And it's not even the biggest one.”

Jake's brow furrows. “Really?”

“VY _Canis Majoris_. It's 2,600 times bigger than the sun,” she claims, wonder in her expression as she looks up at the sky.

Jake smiles to himself. He's known of Amy’s love for space since their second month as partners (an exhibit on meteor showers at the NYSCI was targeted by a notorious pickpocket and Jake practically had to drag her out once they'd caught the guy) but it’s a whole other experience to see her in such a state of complete awe. The look in her eyes as she studies the skies carefully is nothing short of wonder, and it causes a comforting sense of warmth and something else – something unidentifiable, yet still pleasant – to settle in his stomach. 

(Later on, when she turns that same gaze towards him, that something will solidify into uninhibited affection.)

“You really know your astronomy, huh?” 

Amy looks back at him, beaming proudly. “I had eleven birthdays in a row at the planetarium.” She states, before frowning and turning back. “It's not as good a view from here though, too much light pollution.”

Jake folds his arms behind his head, his seat pushed back. “Where do you usually go?” 

“Nowhere in particular.” She mumbles, the tips of her ears turning pink. 

Overcome with curiosity, Jake smiles mischievously, his eyebrows raised. “Something about how your entire face is red tells me that you're a liar.”

Amy doesn't respond, instead averting her eyes, and a shit-eating grin spreads across Jake's face. “Oooh, a secret Amy spot? Now I’m intrigued.”

She rolls her eyes. “I'm the only one who knows where it is, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Challenge accepted.” Jake smirks. “I'll let you take lead on our next 10 cases.”

Amy shakes her head. “Not good enough.”

“I'll buy your morning coffee for the month.” 

“Nope.”

“I'll let you give me a tattoo that says _‘Amy Santiago is the best detective in the NYPD’_ ”.

She laughs softly, smiling seemingly to herself. “You're gonna have to try harder than that to bribe me.”

Jake stares at her for a beat, contemplation in his expression, before a smile slowly spreads across his face. “I'll let you teach me about all the constellations.”

Amy’s head snaps towards him, undeniable excitement in her eyes. “That's cold.” She mutters, the bitterness in her tone undercut by a grin. 

“So….that's a yes?”

“You can't tell anyone.”

Jake reaches over, taking both her hands in his and staring her straight in the eye with mock sincerity, Amy erupting into laughter as he speaks. “I solemnly swear to you, Amelia Santiago, that no living soul shall ever–”

A knock sounds on his car door, cutting him off, and he turns to face the intrusion with a sheepish grin. Upon realizing it’s their relief team from the night shift, he drops Amy’s hands, waving in acknowledgment before turning back around. 

“I won't tell anyone.”

“Not even Charles?” Amy prompts, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not even Charles. I swear on the Nets game I’m missing right now.” He confirms. 

“Alright, fine. It’s on the roof of my apartment.” She smiles. “Did Holt want us to check in when night shift got here?”

“I'll just text him when we get to your place.” He smiles innocently.

Amy stares, confused. “My place? What about your basketball game?”

“Amy. If you really thought you could tell me about your secret stargazing spot and not have me immediately check it out, then you are certifiably insane. The Nets may be my number one love, but I will never miss an opportunity to gain more knowledge of your inherent nerdiness.” He states flatly. 

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”

“ _I hope you know what you're getting yourself into_ , title of your sex tape. Let's roll!” He shouts as he puts the car in drive, pulling away from the building. 

### 

“Jeez, Peralta, slow down– _Jake!_ ” Amy's voice echoes down the hall of her apartment complex as the two stumble up the stairs in haste. 

“No time to waste.” Jake crows cheerily, his hands on Amy’s back, steering her towards their destination. If he wasn't so focused on the task at hand, he might've noticed right away how her ears turn pink and she seems to lean into his touch – needless to say, when he recalls these details later, it will be with a smile. 

Amy unlocks her door and steps aside quickly, cackling when her sudden movement causes Jake to tumble into her living room. 

“Maybe if you were more patient, you wouldn't fall so much.” She smiles sweetly. 

“Maybe if you didn't sidestep me, I wouldn't have fallen at all.” He retorts, indignant. His eyes sweep the room on impulse as he walks in, setting his bag on the ground. 

It's not like Amy’s apartment is new to Jake; the two had spent many hours camped out on the couch he stood next to now, reviewing case files over cheap beer, pizza, and the faded sounds of cop comedies radiating from her TV. It isn't the concept of Amy’s apartment that Jake is so enthralled by this time – it's the circumstances.

They’d spent time outside of work together before, but it usually involved alcohol and at least 2 other people. What they’re doing now, just the two of them hanging out for the sake of hanging out, is a concept that makes Jake happier than it should, especially after everything that happened between them. Things finally feel somewhat normal, save for the twinge of heartache he feels whenever Amy catches him staring at her from his desk. 

“What are you looking for?” Amy frowns, breaking him out of his reverie. 

“The entrance to Narnia.” He fires back. “Obviously I’m looking for your secret hideout door.”

Amy stares at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised in question. 

“...What?”

“Do you really think there would be an entrance to the _roof_ , which is on the _10th floor_ , from my apartment on the 7th floor?” She asks, an amused tone taking on her voice. 

“It's like 2 in the morning. You're not allowed to make fun of me when I’m sleep deprived.” Jake jokes back, eyes casting around the area. “Why did we come to your suite then?”

He looks up for an answer, but is met with an empty room. “Amy?” 

“In here.” Her voice calls from the kitchen, and Jake follows it to find her digging through her cupboards. “We stopped here to get supplies.” She states proudly, turning around with an armful of snacks and drinks. A wide grin takes up Jake’s face when he spies a bottle of orange soda, trapped between Amy’s upper arm and her torso. 

“Orange soda!” He exclaims, before confusion settles in his features. “Since when do you have orange soda in your kitchen?”

Amy looks down at her feet, smiling sheepishly. “Uh...last time you were here, you helped me with my murder case, remember? Like two months ago.” She pauses, and Jake nods, his smile growing wider with every word. “You were complaining about the lack of orange soda, so I...I bought some, just for the next case.”

Jake remembers that night very clearly. Amy had called him just after 7, her tone panicked because she’d been given a deadline and was still struggling to piece together the evidence. He still hasn't told her that he’d chosen to come help her over tickets to a Nets game – they'd lost anyways. 

“How thoughtful.” He smiles, taking a few items from her arms. “What else do we need?”

She furrows her brow in contemplation as she puts her things in a shopping bag. “Well, I’ve already got some stuff up there. Really all we need is snacks and blankets. It gets cold.”

“I call dibs on that purple blanket from the back of your couch!” He shouts as he darts into her living room. Amy’s laughter sounds from the kitchen, only growing louder when Jake glides into her view with the blanket in question wrapped around him like a cape. 

“You are such a dork.” Amy remarks, lifting her bag and making for the front door. 

“Says you, miss eleven-birthdays-at-the-planeta– Ow!” He's cut off with a punch on the arm as the two make their way out the door, excitement rolling off them in waves. 

### 

Two hours pass on the roof of Amy excitedly pointing out her favourite constellations and Jake trying very hard not to make any more sex tape jokes (he’s fairly certain the last one had earned him a sizeable bruise). 

Now they sit on the blanket Amy had spread out earlier – or rather, Jake sits, staring up at the stars and silently reciting to himself the constellations she’d taught him. He isn't sure when exactly Amy fell asleep; all he knows is that sometime in the last ten minutes, her head ended up on his shoulder and he hasn't moved since. 

Another ten minutes pass and Jake's own eyelids begin to feel heavy, his cheek coming down to rest atop Amy’s head almost involuntarily. Inwardly, he groans; it's not like they can fall asleep up here without consequence, and his neck is already starting to hurt. Gently, he lifts his head and taps Amy’s hand a few times – she grunts in response and sinks deeper into his side. 

“Amy.”

“No.”

He chuckles softly. “Amy, you gotta go to bed. You're gonna get a crick in your neck.”

She sighs in an exaggerated manner, rubbing blearily at her eyes. “Too late.” Standing up, she gathers up her side of the blanket, shooing Jake off so she can lift the whole thing up. He can't seem to stop smiling; the pile of blankets in her arms covers all of her face except her forehead, and her hair is ruffled from sleep, and she looks _adorably_ flustered, and–

“Are you gonna help, or am I carrying all this back to my apartment while you stand there and daydream?” She demands, her voice light and amused. 

“Right. Sorry.”

The pair work to gather up all the supplies they brought with them, and begin the trek downstairs to Amy’s suite. Once there, Amy practically collapses onto the couch. “Put the food stuff on the counter. I'll deal with it later.” Her voice is muffled by the couch cushions, and Jake does what she says before pushing her feet aside and taking his place next to her. 

“What’re you doing?” She grumbles. 

“I’m as tired as you are, Santiago–”

“Doubtful.”

“–so I’m crashing on your couch.” He finishes, eyes growing bleary with the thought of sleep. 

Amy sits up, frowning. “You can't crash on my couch, _I’m_ crashing on my couch. _You_ can crash on the floor.”

He snorts. “What, you're not gonna insist I take the bed? What happened to your gracious hosting skills?”

“If I were awake enough to get up and walk to my own bed, I’d consider letting you have it. But I’m not physically capable of moving from this spot, and if I can't have the bed then no one gets the bed. Fair draw.” She mumbles. 

“Skewed logic, but okay.” He shrugs, grabbing a throw pillow and laying down parallel to the couch. There’s a click of a lamp switch and then the room is dark, and after some shuffling around, it's quiet as well. 

“Hey, Santiago?”

She grunts in response. 

“Thanks for showing me constellations and stuff.”

“Go to sleep, Jake.” Her arm blindly reaches off the couch in search of his face, and a soft flick lands on his forehead before the hand goes limp and a soft snore sounds from its owner. 

“Goodnight, Ames.”

### 

When Jake wakes up somewhere around 5 am, he's warm – way warmer than he should be in the fall, sleeping on the floor with a small throw blanket. The warmth isn't so much encompassing as it is focused, similar to the feeling of a heat pack on his stomach (if the heat pack was human-sized and smelled faintly of cinnamon and honey).

At that, his eyes open rather briskly, and he’s right to be skeptical of his sudden warmth. He’s still on the floor, but Amy had rolled off her makeshift bed sometime in the night to settle between Jake and the bottom of the couch. Her head rests gently under his chin, hair tickling his neck, hand draped across his stomach. Her left leg rests against his right, their ankles jumbled together, and he smiles despite his initial panic. As awkward as this could end up being in a few hours, the level of comfort Jake feels is enough to overlook it, so he gently moves the arm buried underneath Amy’s torso to rest it on her lower back, relishing in the quiet hum she makes in response before freezing. 

She responded. 

She's probably awake. 

_Crap_.

“...Amy?” He whispers. 

“Shhhh. Comfy.” She mumbles, burying her face deeper into the crook of his neck. He feels his face heat up, but Amy is oblivious, apparently more focused on going back to sleep. 

He sighs and relaxes himself, letting his limbs go slack. “I hope you know you're gonna feel extraordinarily awkward in T-minus 3 hours when you have to wake up.”

“I don't care.” She yawns through the words, and Jake chuckles before relenting. 

“Neither do I.” He says softly. The early morning light filtering through the curtains illuminates the smile spreading across Amy’s half-asleep features, and Jake decides then and there that that same smile is only thing he ever wants to wake up to.


End file.
